


A Test of Loyalty

by KadeAK (zacixn)



Series: The Tides of War (Dream SMP Season One) [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Conflict, Failed Negotiation, Gen, IRL AU, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacixn/pseuds/KadeAK
Summary: Dream was mostly sure he was going to win this war, but ‘mostly’ was nowhere near good enough. He wanted certainty, and he was going to get it, through any means possible.--Dream attempts to convince Wilbur to defect to his side. He underestimates Wilbur's loyalty to his country.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The Tides of War (Dream SMP Season One) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909273
Comments: 3
Kudos: 128





	A Test of Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> I've, uh, never written anything like this before. I hope it is okay.

The wheels of war were finally in motion. In just over 48 hours, peacetime would end, and the fragile peace of the Dream SMP would splinter into shards, likely never to be repaired again. If anything, Dream was being generous. If he’d been in a less fortunate mood, his adversaries would already be burning to the ground, their walls crumbling at his power.

They were just lucky the SMP were also lacking in certain supplies. Not by much, of course – the region was always at tip-top military shape – but by enough to facilitate a period of preparation. A final truce, so to speak, before he laid waste to their hatchling ambitions of independence. 

Of course, there was an ulterior motive to calling for the truce, as well. The ruler had some… business to attend to, things he couldn’t exactly accomplish whilst in the middle of wartime.  
Dream was mostly sure he was going to win this war, but ‘mostly’ was nowhere near good enough. He wanted certainty, and he was going to get it, through any means possible.

\--

Sunlight shone over the hills of the territory, beaming a deceptive warmth down onto the land. The calm heat would be relaxing to anyone else, but today was not a day of true peace. Dream was alone and wearing only his staple casual clothes, having left the majority of his armour and weaponry in the military base. George and Sapnap had expressed concern for his vulnerability, but it was key to present himself as a non-threat. 

The masked man hummed a deceptively positive tune to himself as he strolled in the general direction of the L’Manburg nation borders, hands clasped in the pocket of his lime hoodie. With luck, he’d stumble across one of the military, doing preparations. They’d been all over the place since the delivery of the war declaration – it was rather entertaining to watch, really. How they hoped to counter their Netherite reserves in only two days, Dream did not know.

Plains began to fade into forest as he drew nearer to the enemy faction, the trees’ coverage dappling Dream’s figure in shadow. Perhaps it was more fitting to be draped in shade than in sunlight. The ruler chuckled to himself at that thought.

Every step seemed to ring through the lush forest. Today might be the last day this forest would be so green, Dream thought, as he recalled his other plans. The residents of L’Manburg didn’t need to know that, though. It would be incredibly entertaining to watch them come to that realisation when it happened.

Really, though, where was everybody? Dream was almost at the walls of the region. Surely somebody would have noticed the ruler of the SMP coming so close to the borders by now. It was almost as if he was being - 

“Hold it right there, green scum.”

…trailed. Right on cue, there came the cold, spiteful voice of the current L’Manburg president, Wilbur Soot. Dream turned around to see the tip of an iron sword being pointed very threateningly in his direction.

The rebel leader took a step forward, clear contempt painted all over his face. Before the declaration of war, Wilbur had always been at least mildly diplomatic with the SMP, but now that fighting was inevitable, he seemed to be far, far more spiteful. Perhaps he felt cornered, Dream thought. Animals were always far more volatile when scared. He’d need to proceed with care if he didn’t want to end up with his blood splattered on L’Manburg territory.

Raising his hands in a show of non-violence, Dream shifted his body to fully face Wil’s. “I’m here on peacetime terms,” he said simply, voice neutral despite the presence of the weapon directed towards his face. “I wanted to… discuss something of interest with you.”

There were a few moments of tense silence before the other leader sighed and sheathed his blade at his hip. He didn’t remove his hand from its handle, unfortunately, but that was fine – the situation had been diffused, at least for now. Lowering his hands, Dream placed them back into his pocket, taking another step forwards so they were at optimal distance for discussion.

He could identify distrust glimmering within Wilbur’s dark, brown eyes. Really, he was the worst person Dream could have bumped into to try this on, but if he could successfully convince the president of the enemy nation to defect, he would have all but ensured his own victory. It would be a steep climb to victory.

“What do you want with my nation?” Wilbur snapped, his words clipped. He narrowed his eyes down on the ruler, glare only sharpening when he began to speak again.

“I want nothing from your 'nation',” Dream clarified, shrugging. “I want to speak to you, as a person.”

The president did not reply, hardly shifting from his tensed position. 

“Look, I’m a nice person, really. I respect you as a leader – I don’t want to be against you.” Dream was lying through his teeth for the most part, white lies dripping from his mouth like melted sugar. “I came here to extend a hand of friendship to you, and you alone.”

More heavy silence passed before Wilbur finally spoke. “…What do you mean by that?” he asked, tone low and dangerous.

“I’m saying,” he said, in an almost purr-like tone, “I want to offer you a role of leadership among the SMP. You would be great with us, Wilbur. You could reach greater heights by my side.” Dream took another step forward. He was fairly sure he at least had Wilbur’s interest peaked, judging by how he seemed to be lost in thought. “You might even be able to end this war yourself, on the right side of history. You’d be a hero, just like you wanted to be.” The ruler’s own voice had dipped into a deceptive register, his expression unreadable behind his white ceramic mask.

Wilbur’s face had gone from one of spite to one of conflict, closing his eyes. Any moment now, he would open them, and go to shake Dream’s hand. Of all the L’Manburg residents, the president must be the one who knew most clearly how doomed his side was. Only a fool would reject this offer of greatness.

“You bastard.” Wilbur said, flatly. His eyes shot open, and his hands drew his blade back from its sheath, pointing it directly at Dream, who took a hurried step back in unfiltered shock.

The president’s face soured, distrust burning into anger. Dream had to leap backwards to avoid a wide slashing attack from the now enraged Wilbur.

“I knew you were a coward, Dream,” he spat, advancing towards the defenseless ruler, “but to think you’d expect me to stoop to your level is insulting.” His words dripped with hate now, and Dream felt his heart leap a little when he felt the cool blackstone of the L’Manburg wall behind him, preventing escape. He really had gotten quite unlucky on this expedition – it was very fortunate he’d packed a getaway, just in case his random target was as stubborn as Wilbur seemed to be.

“I am no coward, Wilbur,” Dream spoke, back pressed against the wall. “You’re going to regret not joining us.”

At that, something dangerous flashed in the expression of the president, who reared his sword to strike again. Regaining his cool, Dream grasped one of his emergency ender pearls, tossing it at full strength into the undergrowth in the distance. It shattered against something just as Wilbur’s iron sword barely scratched his mask, teleporting the ruler several feet away.  
Barely stopping to regain his lost breath, Dream started running – he wasn’t taking any more chances today. Wilbur’s stubbornness was no skin off of his back, not really, but the metaphorical defeat and his close shave with death stung deep in his soul. 

“I’ll bet your lackeys don’t have the same level of stupid faith as you, Wilbur,” Dream snarled quietly to himself, as he disappeared over the hills of the neutral land.

Tomorrow, he’d be back, and he wouldn’t be leaving without someone under his belt.

\--

Wilbur flinched as his sword lodged itself into the sturdy blackstone of the border wall. 

Tearing it out with a furious motion, he sheathed it quickly, leaning against the cold surface. The masked ruler was long gone by now, probably, having pearled out of his death, but that didn’t make Wilbur any less furious at his tactics. The idea of betraying L’Manburg – the only home he could call his own – sent a bitter taste down his throat, and the fact that he actually considered it for a moment just made him sick.

Turning to lean against the stone, he slid down it, landing in a defeated slump on the floor. Burning tears of anger dribbled down his face – he hadn’t even noticed he’d started crying. Fundamentally, he knew L’Manburg was too raw, too fresh from creation to withstand an attack from someone as terrifyingly skilled as Dream. Perhaps they would all fall at his blade, and perhaps they’d all die a wasteful death.

Wil’s mind flickered to the ranks of his nation, to the people he fought to protect. Eret, who’d never asked for this bitter conflict. Tubbo and Tommy, two young and innocent refugees from the SMP’s tyranny. Fundy, his metaphorical son. How could he have even thought about betraying them? The president placed a hand over his mouth as the sickened feeling worsened.

Closing his eyes, he made a silent promise to himself.  
As long as he was alive, Dream would not win.

**Author's Note:**

> (I wonder why this is a series..? Maybe if I am motivated enough, I'll explore an AU to this fic...)


End file.
